


Pebble

by Icelandic_Flutterby



Series: Toddling Horde [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 07:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10872390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icelandic_Flutterby/pseuds/Icelandic_Flutterby
Summary: Thrain panics over the birth of his children. His family laughs at him.





	Pebble

Thrain stared at the wall in front of him. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to swallow but nothing happened. Distantly, he was aware of his father looking at him with concern. His mother was currently not in the room. She was with Frís. He opened his mouth as if to speak and his family all eagerly leaned forward to hear his words, but no sound came out. He chocked, and his cousin Fundin started forward, thumping him on the back.  
  
Thrain coughed. Gasped. He could breathe again. He latched onto Fundin’s arm, clinging as if for his life. What to do? What to do?  
He didn’t hear it, but Thror sighed even as uncle Frór laughingly said; “Remind you of someone?” To uncle Grór, who snickered.  
  
“Shut yer trap.” Thror snapped at his brothers, and stood up to sit down next to his only child.  
“Thrain, laddie,” he began, but was interrupted by the door opening. Hrera stepped out, eyes searching for her son. She smiled beautifully when she found him, and stepped away from the door. Thrain launched himself up, and towards the door, stumbling a little but catching himself on the doorframe. He felt slightly light-hearted from excitement. He wobbled to Frís, eyes trained only on her and the small child in her arms.  
  
Frís grinned at him, clearly tired. “Look at our son,” she whispered, cradling the tiny form to her chest. Thrain plopped down next to her, wide eyed, a trembling hand reaching for the child and gasping when a small hand grabbed his finger.  
  
“A strong lil pebble.” Thrain managed to choke out, a laugh bubbling out a fraction of a second later. Frís giggled with him. The babe cooed in contentment. Their family stood in the doorway, smiles wide and happy tears in some of their eyes. The new parents looked up, each smiling so wide it almost hurt, and simultaneously named their child;  
  
“Thorin.”  
  
_._._._  
  
Thrain couldn’t breathe, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Thror frowned in concern. “Son,” he said softly. “Are you all right?” he asked. Thorin sat in his father’s lap, wide-eyed and concerned and softly patted his adad’s cheek. Thrain tried to answer, but no words came out. A few of Thrain’s cousins laughed, clutching their small ones to their chests.  
  
The door opened and Hrera emerged smiling. She held the door open for Thrain to step through, and he stood up, adjusting his hold on Thorin as he did. The young boy used the opportunity to grab Thrain’s beard and stuff it into his mouth. Thrain walked up to his wife and sat down upon the bed so that he and Thorin were facing Frís and the new babe. Frís tutted, and lifted a hand to free Thrain’s beard from Thorin’s mouth. Thrain blinked in surprise, as he’d not noticed Thorin putting it there.  
  
“Hello loves,” She said softly and smiled tiredly. Before either parent could say or do anything, Thorin cooed, and pointed at the new babe. Thrain chuckled.  
  
“Aye, little love,” he said happily. “that is your new sibling, Frerin.” Thorin gasped loudly, struggling a little to raise himself up in his father’s arms, and made a satisfied sound when his father assisted. He leaned forward to look at Frerin, cooing in happiness, before accidentally falling face down, smacking his head against Frerin in the process. The family all roared with laughter, even as Frís and Thrain started on the mission to sooth their upset children.  
  
_._._._  
  
Thrain couldn’t breathe. Thror sighed. One would think he’d be used to this by now.  
  
Frerin tugged at his grandfather’s pants, wide eyed stare not leaving his father. “hmm?” Thror looked down, smiling upon the sight that greeted him. Thorin had sat down on the floor besides Thror, opposites his father so as to keep a calm, worried gaze upon him.  
  
“Whads wrong wid adad?” Frerin asked Thror, worry carried in his tone even despite the childish lisp.  
  
“your adad is both worried and excited, little one.” Thror said calmly, reaching down to pat first Frerin upon the head, and then Thorin, who bore it with stoicism.  
  
“Why?” asked Frerin, but Thorin replied before Thror could.  
  
“You’ll know soon, nadadith.” He whispered into his brother’s ear, grinning when Frerin protested that he’d like to know _now! Please and thank you!_  
  
When the door opened, Thorin’s gaze snapped away from Thrain, and he clumsily stood up, dragging Frerin along with him. The child walked as quickly as he could towards the bed inside their room, and once he reached it, he pushed Frerin onto the bed and then climbed up himself, with only some difficulty. The two brothers then crawled over to their parents, who waited patiently for them, smiles large and happy tears leaking through Thrain’s one eye.  
  
“Whosat?” asked Frerin when he saw the babe in his amad’s arms, but Thorin it seemed, had never been more wide-eyed in his life.  
  
“This,” Frís said to her sons, “is your little sister.” Gasps and a quiet whisper of “a gift from Mahal” were heard from the doorway. Thorin rather felt that both his sibling were gifts from Mahal.  
  
Frerin stood at his mother’s side, a hand reaching for the babe and laughing when a strong hand gripped his. “Wads her name?” he asked, and before his parents could answer, he continued, “cuz I think Dís would be a good name!” Thrain chuckled and Frís grinned.  
  
“What a coincidence, “Frís told her younger son. “I rather like that name also.”


End file.
